


When The Truth Comes Out

by Zombubble



Series: Tumblr Drabbles and Prompts [10]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alcohol, Drunkenness, M/M, Soulmate AU, Yuuri still figure skates, frat party, prompts, they're super drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-26 07:45:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18177839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zombubble/pseuds/Zombubble
Summary: Everyone knows you can't lie to your soulmate.Everyone also knows that the chances of meeting your soulmate are one in a million at best.Yuuri knows that the only reason he's drunkenly blurting things out to the TA for his Russian class is because he's drunk, right?Right?!





	When The Truth Comes Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Themis_76](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Themis_76/gifts).



> **Prompt from themis-76:** can you imagine drunk Yuuri and this? Or not-so-suave Viktor? the one where it’s impossible to lie to your soulmate.
> 
> Thank you for prompting!! I went with a bit of both ^^

On the one hand, Yuuri knows full well that he’s drunk.

On the other, Yuuri’s good at lying when he’s drunk, which is what he’s going to do for the entirety of this godforsaken party if he’s asked any sort of personal question. He saunters across the room– which in reality is more him just swaggering as best he can as he tries to keep his balance– and grabs another beer, cracking the can and draining half of it.

Honestly, fuck school. Fuck final exams, fuck tests in general, fuck everything. It’s not Yuuri’s fault he couldn’t stay focused. No, he’d studied the material, he’d done his homework and made flash cards and set reminders and the whole shebang, but he hadn’t accounted for real life. He hadn’t accounted for his aging dog, and now his GPA is paying the price.

The rest of the beer is drained and Yuuri grabs another, chugging that one too. Normally he comes to these sorts of parties to get out of the house and talk to people who aren’t his figure skating competitors, the press, or his roommate but fuck that. Today, he’s here for the free booze and the surprisingly good homemade french fries, and that’s it. No friends, no titillating conversation, no one-night stands in an upstairs bedroom. No anything.

Setting down the empty can he grabs a third and tries to forget that if he counts previous drinks it’s somewhere near his tenth, draining half of it  before pouring the rest into a red solo cup. He grabs yet another beer and pours that one in too, and combined with the rest it almost fills the flimsy plastic cup to the brim. Taking a sip, he turns back to the party. People are dancing in the living room, clustered near the mediocre sound system. In the kitchen, someone’s doing a keg stand and that’s really not something Yuuri needs to get involved with. Not today, at least.

When Phichit beckons, though, he’s sorely tempted.

Very sorely tempted.

Throwing caution to the wind, Yuuri walks over and hands his plastic cup off to a hockey player he’s talked to a few times at parties like this before grabbing the handles and letting himself be lifted vertically. One person makes a comment about the muscle he has on him, another mentions that he’s Japan’s top figure skater, but the only person that matters is the third, who’s putting the tap in Yuuri’s mouth and getting things going.

 

Staggering away from the keg, Yuuri takes his cup and lets out a burp behind one hand, before wandering through the living room. He has no desire to dance, his ballet training useless for… whatever it is everyone is doing, so he walks through the crowd and out the sliding glass doors into the back yard. The crisp winter air hits him in a rush, and while he’s too drunk for it to sober him up entirely, it adds some clarity to the fuzz in his mind.

Not much, though, and he grabs a can of beer from the cooler before walking over to the pool and taking off his shoes and socks. Rolling up his pant legs, he puts his feet in the heated water, sighing happily. It’s not as good as the onsen back home, and homesickness tears through him and brings tears to his eyes as he chokes back a sob. He misses his family. He misses his dog. He hates that he fucked up at Sochi and he hates that he fucked up his exam and he hates America and being here and as he’s scrubbing at his face, he hears soft footsteps approaching.

“Everything okay?”

Dread coalesces in his stomach. The softness of the voice, the Russian accent… he can recognize his Russian TA’s voice anywhere given the amount of time he’s spent listening to the man speak and the last thing he wants is for the person who’d graded his failure of a midterm to see him drunk and crying at a frat party.

“No, everything fucking sucks right now,” he mutters. His eyes widen and his heart starts racing. He’s more drunk than he’d realized if he’s at the point of brutal honesty, and he takes a sip of his beer, staring intently at the water in front of him. There’s the sound of shuffling, and Viktor sits next to him with his jeans rolled up as well, dipping his feet in the warmth of the pool.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Viktor asks.

“No,” Yuuri mutters. 

Viktor sighs. “Fair enough. I just figured… Your exam wasn’t quite at the level I expected and I was worried.” There’s a hesitation in his voice that Yuuri can’t quite pick out, but he’s too drunk to care so he takes another sip from the red plastic cup.

“I’ll make it up somehow.” Sighing, Yuuri kicks his feet in the water. “Did the Professor ask you to check up on me?”

“No, I was concerned on my own.”

Yuuri would never have guessed Viktor was the type to be open like this. The man’s an expert at keeping people at arm’s length while still being friendly enough that a good two-thirds of the class called him a  _friend,_  but with circumstances being what they are Yuuri’s not going to fault him for some (unnecessary) concern for a student. 

“I’ll be fine after I drink myself stupid and manage to forget everything.” Wincing, Yuuri turns his face away, looks intently at the wooden fence surrounding the property. He’d only intended to say he was fine, but for some reason he’d felt the need to keep going, rubbing it in Viktor’s face just how badly he’s doing.

“I’m sure you will,” Viktor says, chuckling. “I… I watched the competition you said you were going to. The Grand Prix.”

“Oh, god, you saw that?” With one eyebrow raised, Yuuri looks at him. “Do you watch my competitions a lot?”

“Every one of them,” Viktor replies before looking away.

Is he a fan of some sort?

“How long have you been watching figure skating?” Yuuri asks.

“Since March of last year.”

That was about when Yuuri’d had to ask for his first assignment extension. Last semester hadn’t been as hard as this last one, but with Worlds Yuuri’d had to ask for an extension for an assignment. Explaining to his teacher and the TA that he was Japan’s top figure skater had taken a bit of convincing before he’d told them to google him, but once the professor had seen his skater profile on the Japanese Federation page he’d changed his tune and allowed him to turn in the assignment a week late.

It would stand to reason that Viktor had watched some of his routines but… why? And why is he being so obvious about only watching once he knew Yuuri skated? He frowns, looking back at Viktor and holy  _shit,_  Viktor’s beautiful. This isn’t anything Yuuri was unaware of, Viktor teaches enough that he’s had ample time to stare at him, but there’s just something about the openness of Viktor’s expression, the way his ocean-blue eyes flit back and forth as he looks at Yuuri that leaves Yuuri  _breathless._  Clearing his throat, Viktor pops open a can of beer and takes a gulp.

“Whatever it was that happened,” he says, “if you need to talk…”

No. No. Yuuri’s not going to sit here and blather away about his dog and his skating and his grades. He’s going to tell Viktor he’s fine, convince him somehow that messing up in school and at the competition were some sort of coincidental fluke, and then he’s going to get drunk and make Phichit carry him back to their apartment.

“I’ll get over it,” he mutters.

“Get over what?”

Yuuri takes a deep breath. Get over his failures, get over the way he messed up, get over whatever quirk of his brain won’t let him just get  _past_  things. Viktor doesn’t need to know about any of this, so Yuuri steels himself and looks at his TA. “Get over the fact I never got a chance to say goodbye to my dog.”

_No._  What the fuck was he thinking, blurting his issues out like that?! He looks down at his beer, swaying gently.

“Your dog died?” Viktor asks. “I didn’t know you had a dog.”

“He lived with my parents, in Japan.” Yuuri mutters. “He got ill. Didn’t make it. I found out the day before I skated the free program.”

“No wonder. If you need to re-take the exam sometime I’m sure I could work something out with Nikolas.”

“Don’t bother, it won’t do any good.”

“I just don’t want–”

“Why is it you care?” Yuuri asks, on the verge of tears for some reason. “Why? You barely even  _know_  me!”

“I love you,” Viktor whispers before clapping his hands over his mouth. He mutters something in Russian, harsh and too fast for Yuuri to catch, before looking to the side. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have– I don’t know why I said that.”

Yuuri frowns. “Are you fucking with me?”

“What? No!”

“You have to know, somehow.”

Viktor looks at him. “Know what?”

Frustrated, Yuuri looks at his hands. “That I have… that I’m… that I feel the same,” he finishes. 

“Well, of course,” Viktor says.

“What?”

“After… do you not remember? The social we had, for Russian, when the whole Russian department got together to hang out…”

“In all honesty,” Yuuri says, “I was kind of drunk after the fifth round of toasts.”

“I know, but… we danced, and you asked me to come to the hot springs your parents have and you said I should watch you compete sometime,” Viktor whispers. Clearing his throat, he leans back and looks at the stars. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I made this about me, I just wanted to check in on you and see how you were doing.”

“You didn’t make it about you, you just answered–” Eyes wide, Yuuri looks at him. “You just answered my questions honestly,” he whispers.

Viktor frowns before his eyes widen and he meets Yuuri’s. “Lie to me,” he says. “Where was your last competition?”

As hard as he tries, Yuuri can’t tell anything but the truth. “Sochi, Russia,” he whispers. “What’s your dog’s name?”

After some straining, Viktor blurts, “Makkachin.”

The implications of what they’ve just discovered weigh heavily on Yuuri’s shoulders while somehow being uplifting. Everyone knows, from the time they’re young, that you can’t lie to your soulmate. With some cleverness, you can weave the truth in such a way that it gives the impression of a lie, but as far as blatant statements like these…

There’s no doubt in either of their minds that this is meant to be, that the honesty with which they’ve bared themselves is that which indicates a deeper bond. It’s not always people find their soulmates. It’s not even that common, but somehow Yuuri’s found his and it’s the Russian TA he’s been crushing on for going on a year now. Blushing, Viktor looks down before turning to Yuuri. 

“Well, then.”

“Well, then.” Draining the last of his beer, Yuuri looks at the empty cup. Honestly, he doesn’t know what to do at this point. Asking for a date seems too… much, but at the same time they both care about the other and both want this so he could probably get away with it, but then there’s ethics and he really doesn’t know how that would play out. Luckily, Viktor leans closer.

“I could help you study for the final,” he says softly. “We could go over the test, discuss what you messed up on, and I could help you study.”

“I don’t need an unfair advantage.”

“It wouldn’t be,” Viktor murmurs. “I’d be using the study guide Nikolas made, I wouldn’t give you the answers. I don’t even know what he’s putting on the test, yet, and I wouldn’t cover with you stuff that I wouldn’t cover with others.”

Yuuri looks at him. “You’re sure?”

Viktor nods. “We could… meet at a cafe. Have food. Study. You know. Stuff.”

“Stuff.”

Viktor nods again. “Stuff. Help take your mind off things.”

It sounds nice. It’s the human connection Yuuri’s been craving without the risk of a hangover the next morning (and he can already feel the edges of a headache) and he’ll be able to feel like he’s at least doing  _something_ to keep his life from unraveling at the seams.

“I’d like that,” he says softly.

Looking at him, Viktor smiles. “So would I.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [tumblr,](https://we-call-everything-katsudon.tumblr.com/) [twitter (sometimes nsfw),](https://twitter.com/zombubble) and [pillowfort.](https://www.pillowfort.io/Zombubble)


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